


Hope

by satanchangedmypresets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Pre-Slash, Samulet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanchangedmypresets/pseuds/satanchangedmypresets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thinks back on what he has lost, and what it gained him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope

For years, the amulet Sam had given him had hung in that spot on his chest. He’d gotten used to its weight, felt naked without it, and it had represented the hope he had for Sam and for a normal life. It was something he didn’t even admit to himself that he wanted, because if he didn’t want it, how could he be disappointed when he didn’t get it?

It’s quiet in the car as he drives, and he’s alone with his thoughts. The bitter swell of defeat coats his tongue and he swallows, trying to chase it away.

He remembered the moment of despair when Castiel had handed the amulet back to him after months without it, knowing that God was out there, but simply didn’t want to be found. John had never been so blunt about it, but Dean had wanted to tell Castiel that he knew how it felt. He came close when Castiel came back hung over, having learned how to deal with such a betrayal from Dean himself, but he never had the words to adequately explain what he felt.

He remembered how it felt when he let the amulet fall from his fingers into the near empty trash can of the nameless motel, out of his life forever, along with all the broken dreams it represented.

A light snore jerked him out of his thoughts and Dean came back to the Impala, the miles of road behind them as final as the weight of the new amulet hanging on his chest. He glanced to the side where Sam was sleeping quietly, then to the back seat where Castiel was curled up under Dean’s leather jacket. The fallen angel had a hard time getting warm now without his grace.

Dean glanced down to the new amulet he wore, burnished gold engraved in Enochian, wrapped around smoky glass, glowing a dim blue with angelic grace.

Behind him, Castiel whimpered in the throes of a nightmare and Dean reached back to lay a hand on his knee.

“It’s okay, Cas, I’m here,” he said softly, squeezing gently until Castiel quieted, and then he raised his hand to the amulet on his chest, closing his fist around it, wrapping his hand around new hopes and new dreams and the fallen angel who would never truly be fallen to him.


End file.
